


Just how far can you go?

by Lulaypp



Series: Whumptober 2020 [5]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: (But it is technically can be seen as not really conclusive?), Angst, Dick is there but he is.... just there, Minor Character Death, Prompt is failed escape so not a good ending, Whump, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26804932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lulaypp/pseuds/Lulaypp
Summary: Jason cannot give in to the exhaustion and pain trying to drag him down. Dick needs him to get them out of here alive. But just how far can determination take him? How long can sheer will keep him up? How long before everything drags him down?
Series: Whumptober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949758
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Just how far can you go?

**Author's Note:**

> Whumptober Day 5 - Failed Escape  
> I like a plenty about this one. I had a lot of fun with it. (At one point I nearly make them successfully escape before I realised it and backtracked :P) I feel like it is among my better Whumptober fics, one that is less... (for lack of a better word) weird and incoherent.
> 
> WARNING: While no main character dies, there is a single death included in this. And there is a single blood mention but it was just a glancing observation.  
> Additionally, I made Jason kill someone in here. Not purposely, more of a quick reflex thing.  
> This fic also doesn't end on a happy note (due to the prompt).

One step. 

Limp. 

Pull. 

Another step. 

Limp and pull. 

He paused, catching his breath. They ought to have put _some_ amount of distance already. A glance down the empty hallways said as much. 

His body is begging, pleading for him to rest after running so far but he knows that once he gives in to the exhaustion, he wouldn't be able to get up again. So no matter how agonising his left leg felt, he _cannot stop_. 

Red Hood shifted Nightwing's arm slung across his shoulders and pushed on, putting one foot ahead of the other as he limped down the hallway, dragging his unconscious brother beside him. He needs to keep moving if they were to get out of here. _If he were to get Nightwing out of here alive._

Dick hasn't woken up after getting his head hit by a metal pipe, his pulse growing threadier ever since. The wound looks dangerous even without the immense amount of blood pouring out of it. 

After rounding a corner, Jason stopped again, resting his head against the wall, breathing heavily. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to shove down the pain and shovel up more strength from his energy reserve, but adrenaline has already run its course several hallways ago. Now he's just drained, tired and aching, determination being the only thing keeping him standing on shaky legs. Pushing away from the wall, he took another step. The multiple knife slashes and the blade embedded into his left calf is making it harder to move at an efficient speed. 

There was a door ahead which, if the sign pasted onto it is correct, leads to the stairs. He hopes it also leads to the exit. Jason forced himself onwards, trying to ignore Nightwing's breathing getting shallower by the minute. Dick needs him to get them out of here as soon as possible. And to do that, he needs to _keep walking_. Keep walking, don't stop and _don't panic_. 

Just as he was about to push the door open, the sound of a gun going off behind him almost made him flinch as a bullet pierced the door right by his head. A warning shot. He stopped. 

"And just where do you think you're going?" a voice behind him said as footsteps came closer. 

Breathe. He just needs to take down this one guy, then he can resume their escape. "Out," he growled, voice low. 

"I'm afraid the boss wouldn't like that." 

Just as the man got close enough, Red Hood moved. Bending down, he slipped Nightwing off of him onto the floor and whipped around, his left heel crashing into the man's head in one fluid motion. He didn't let himself stop as he picked up the dropped gun from the floor and shot. Once. The sound echoed down the empty hallway. The man didn't get back up. Red Hood dropped the gun, turned away from the body to loop Nightwing's arm across his shoulders once more and pushed through the door. 

Only when he was on the other side did he realise it. He just killed. He had just shot the man dead. On the spot, without hesitation. Jason took a deep, calming, shuddering breath as nausea mixed with the existent migraine. Right now, he cannot do anything about it. Getting Dick to safety is currently more important than his reflex to kill or his promise to Bruce. Right now, he needs to keep moving. 

The stairs led upwards and, from what he could see, there are two flights, hopefully leading out. He slowly, painfully dragged himself and his brother up the stairs, one step at a time. After what should have been at least two whole minutes, he reached the landing. His steps faltered, his mind was reeling, his vision foggy, his body seemingly drained. He warily eyed the next flight of stairs as his legs shook with exhaustion. The mere thought of climbing it made him nauseous. He pushed himself forward, the need to escape stronger than his body's demand for rest. 

But determination can only get him so far. The first step was only inches away when his legs gave out, the collision with the floor causing his chest to twinge painfully as his fractured ribs shifted and a hiss slip through clenched teeth. The knife wound in his leg throbbed and burned as the blade moved and for a moment, he laid there, unmoving, trying to pull his mind out of the agonising flood of pain. 

No. He couldn’t stop. He _shouldn't_. Dick needs him to move. To get up. To get them out. 

He glanced at his unconscious brother, the slight rise and fall of his chest is the only visible indication of life. Reaching up, Jason grasped at the stair rail and pulled himself up. 

Only to immediately crumble as his head let out a sharp burst of pain. 

He moaned, willing the headache and the ringing in his ears to stop. If _only_ to save Dick. His vision felt hazy as does his mind. Exhaustion slowly overriding his clawing need to escape. He blinked up the next flight of stairs, looming over him, daring him to climb up. And inevitably fail. He wouldn't make it. He _knows_ he would never make it. Especially if he is carrying Dick with him. 

His heart fell at the realisation that he has failed. He failed to get out. Failed to save Dick. 

He failed Dick. 

He failed himself. 

He's always such a great failure. He can't even get his brother out alive. 

Disappointment and darkness overloaded his consciousness as he faintly heard the sound of the door below creaking open.

They wouldn't make it out of here. 


End file.
